The Blind Date
by arollercoasterthatonlygoesup
Summary: After spending years being too nervous to so much as speak to one another, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark are set up on a blind date by a mutual friend. (Modern AU)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

I check my hair in the reflection from the elevator doors on the way down. It feels kind of silly, because I'm not even a hundred percent sure that I'm looking forward to this date, but if they've talked to him about me half as much as they've talked to me about him, I want to make a good impression.  
I run over the list of things Delly let slip in my head. I know that he's blonde and that he's a gentleman, and that's it. I tried to convince her to at least tell me his name so that I could call for him and see who turned around, but she refused. Her reasoning was that he already knows to look for a girl in a yellow dress, and if either of us knew anything more about the other, it wouldn't really be a blind date.

The doors slide open and I take inventory of every blonde head I see, making a mental note to tell Delly how completely right I was to be frustrated with how vague she's been. I'm just planning the fight in my head when I see him. He's standing a few feet away from me, by the door. He certainly fits the bill; he's tall and blonde. If he is the right guy, Delly forgot to mention the fact that he has these impossibly blue eyes. I'm just trying to place where I've seen him before when his eyes lock onto mine.  
"Excuse me," he says softly after a few seconds, taking a few steps towards me.  
"Yes?"  
"We went to school together, right? My name is Peeta Mellark?"  
"We did!" I agree, grinning. How did I not recognize him? I had the biggest crush on him for four years. He looks like himself, but he almost doesn't. He wore his hair in an almost buzz cut in high school, but now it's long enough to be curly. He never dressed quite so well in high school, either.  
"I thought you looked familiar. Are you a friend of Delly Cartwright?"  
"I'm her roommate,"  
"I'm her cousin."  
"Are you here visiting her?" I ask, hoping that he'll be the one to mention the blind date so I don't look pathetic if that's not why he came.  
"Actually, no," he says. "I'm here looking for a girl in a yellow dress."  
"I'm looking for someone looking for a girl in a yellow dress." I say in a pathetic attempt at flirting.  
"So are you my date for tonight?" he asks.  
"I think so,"  
"I hope so," a hint of a smile plays on his lips.  
I can feel my cheeks get hot. "I'm Katniss It's nice to finally meet you."  
"Oh, it's my pleasure. You look absolutely stunning,"  
"Thank you." If my cheeks felt hot before, they're on fire now.  
"You're welcome." He smiles, offering me his hand. "Shall we?"  
I take it, smiling.

"So," he says on the way to the restaurant, "I feel the need to warn you that I've never done one of these before. If I'm terrible at this, that's why."  
I laugh.  
"What?" he asks.  
"I just wouldn't worry about it if I were you." I say. "That's all,"  
He lets out a little sigh of relief. "I'm just not used to not knowing anything about who I'm going out with."  
"My middle name is Allison," I offer.  
He smiles, revealing dimples. "I don't have one."  
"I don't think I've ever met anyone that didn't have a middle name."  
"I don't think my parents wanted me to have the option to go by it, to be honest." He laughs, pulling into the parking lot.  
"Were you named after someone?"  
"No, although I did get a lot of jokes growing up about being named after bread. My father owns a bakery."  
I bite my lips together, trying not to laugh.  
"I get along fine with a little bit less than a middle name, even the first name is fine, although if I ever tried to sell bread, I would have to use my last name."  
I smile. "So then if it weren't for your name, you'd be taking me to your own bakery?"  
He pulls into an empty space, turns off the car, and gets out. He sounds heavy when he hits ground, I wonder if we're parked on a hill. "I honestly don't know."  
While I'm trying to figure out to say to that, he comes around the front of the car and opens my door for me, offering a hand to help me down.  
"Thanks," I say, taking it. It really isn't a steep drop, but these heels are new, and if even fractionally, taller than the ones I'm used to, and I'm grateful for the help to balance.  
"Don't mention it."  
To my surprise, he continues his story while we walk. "There was a lot of pressure for me to take it over, especially after my brothers didn't, and I still don't know if I made the right choice. I've just always wanted my own restaurant, and I guess I just wasn't ready to give that up yet."  
He hasn't let go of my hand. I don't want him to.  
"What do your parents think about your decision?"  
"It's hard to tell. They react the same way to pretty much everything I do."  
"Which is…?"  
"Confusion, disappointment, and anger."  
It's quiet, and I don't know what to say. I give his hand a quick squeeze, and he returns it with one of his own. I can tell he's done talking about it, so I try to change the subject.  
"My sister will be proud of me."  
"Why?"  
"She pushed almost as hard as Delly when she found out about this. Especially once she found out who you were."  
"Your sister knows who I am?"  
I feel my cheeks getting hot again. Does it ever stop around him? "I may have… talked about you once or twice when we were in school."  
He grins.  
"What?" I ask.  
"Nothing," he swings our arms, "what kind of stuff about me?"  
I can't look right at him. "Just… things,"  
"No pressure, but I told you about my family,"  
My stomach flips as I try to figure out what to say. "I may have… possibly… thought you were… cute."  
He laughs.  
"Don't laugh at me!" I say. "It's not my fault I had a crush on you."  
"You had a _crush_ on me?"  
"I told you not to laugh at me!"  
"You had a crush on _me_." he repeats quietly, pulling the door open for me, I can hear the smile in his voice. "_Wow._" He whispers the last part, and I'm almost sure that I wasn't supposed to hear it.  
He doesn't let go of my hand until we reach the table.  
"Look," I say once we're sitting down."Can we just forget that I said anything?"  
"No."  
I try to shoot him a look, but I can't keep a straight face when I see that he's still grinning. My agitated sigh turns into a laugh and I examine the wall, trying to seethe.  
"So can I tell you something?" he asks.  
"What?" I look back over at him. A smile still plays at his lips.  
"I never would have thought that I would have the chance to go out with you. I just… all through high school, I never would have thought… "  
"You don't have to try to make me feel better." I say.  
"I'm not. I had the biggest crush on you."  
"Peeta, it's fine, really."  
"Come on, do you need proof?"  
He takes my silence as a yes and takes his phone out. He punches in a number.  
"Hey, it's Peeta. Can you do me a favor? I need you to tell someone something. Oh, we're just talking about who I had a crush on in school and they don't believe me, nothing serious. Awesome, thanks."  
He leans across the table trying to hand me his phone, I shake my head, but he insists. "I can't put him on speaker. It's rude."  
"Hello?" I ask.  
"Hey, I'm Peeta's friend, Finnick. I don't know who you are, but I'm assuming that you'll tell me after I answer your question, since he didn't already tell me your name."  
"That sounds fair." I say.  
"All through school, he had this massive crush on a girl named Katniss Everdeen. He still talks about her sometimes. She kind of kept to herself a lot. She was friends with his cousin, Delly. To be completely honest, he probably talked about her a little bit too much."  
I grin.  
"Is that all you needed to know?"  
"Yes, thank you."  
"Alright, so who are you?"  
"…Katniss Everdeen."  
"Awesome. Hey, can I talk to him again real quick?"  
"Sure."  
"I just need to tell him that he needs to play it cool and not mention the fact that he had a crush on you for years and years."  
I laugh. "Okay, I'll give him the phone,"  
"Thanks,"  
I'm guessing that he says the same thing to Peeta, because it makes his face turn red with laughter.  
"Do you believe me now?" he asks, hanging up.  
"Yeah," I say, laughing. "I do."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"You liked him, right?" Delly asks, checking something on her phone.  
"He was a perfect gentleman. He opened car doors and everything."  
"Right, but did you like him?" She pulls her jacket on, and I understand why she didn't start off with wanting me to tell her every detail about the date.  
"He was really nice," and then, when she narrows her eyes at me, I add, "I liked him."  
"So would you go out with him again, then?"  
"I don't know, he didn't really say anything about it last night."  
"Okay, first off all, I want you to understand that if Johanna were here, she'd be giving you a speech about being a strong woman that wasn't born in the middle ages, and you're really only safe from it because I don't have it memorized."  
I laugh.  
"Secondly, he may not have said anything about it last night, but he's talking about it today, so I need you to do me a favor."  
"What?"  
"Well, he keeps texting me to try to find out whether or not you liked him, and I have a date tonight, and I can't make a good impression if I'm trying to reassure him all night."  
"What am I supposed to do?"  
"Well, I was thinking that maybe you could call him?"  
"That's a little bit, fast, isn't it?"  
"You've been waiting for this for years." She reminds me. "Nothing too long or anything, just a little three minute conversation, you can even make something up to get off the phone. The important thing is to let him know that you enjoyed yourself last night."  
"That's not kind of weird?"  
"I'm begging you. Please, he thinks that you think he was making fun of you or something last night. I don't even know what's that about but if you call him I won't make you tell me."  
"Okay, fine. I'll call him."  
"Awesome, you're my favorite person."  
"I always am."  
"Do you need his number?"  
"I got it last night."  
"I've never been more proud of you." she laughs.

"Hello, Peeta? It's Katniss. From last night."  
"Hey, how are you doing?"  
"I'm doing well, how are you?"  
"I'm great. I had a really good time last night."  
"So did I."  
It's quiet for a few seconds.  
"Did Delly put you up to this?"  
"I don't know if I'm supposed to admit it or not."  
He chuckles. "I just wanted to make sure that you knew that I only laughed because I was surprised. Pleasantly."  
"It's okay, really. I believe you."  
"But you didn't at first. I just wanted to make sure you didn't just want to make me shut up about it."  
"No!"  
"So maybe I could make it up to you sometime? I could cook you dinner tomorrow. Tomorrow's really soon, isn't it? I'm sorry. Just, whenever you can. If you want to, I mean."  
"That sounds great."  
"Are you sure? You don't have to if you don't want to."  
"I want to."  
"Is tomorrow okay?"  
I can hear the smile in his voice.  
"Yeah." I say. "Tomorrow is perfect."  
**  
Author's Note:  
Hi everyone! I'm so thrilled with the positive response to this story. I'm also posting it over at burnt-bread-and-dandelions on Tumblr, and I post about it occasionally on my main blog, which is arollercoasterthatonlygoesup .  
Something I'm wondering about is my formatting. I had one review that said that it could be easier to read, which makes me wonder, my automatic setting is to write my dialogue like this:**

_"It's okay, really. I believe you."  
"But you didn't at first. I just wanted to make sure you didn't just want to make me shut up about it."  
"No!"_

**Is it easier to read, for instance, if it has a line between each interaction? For instance:**

_It's okay, really. I believe you."_

"But you didn't at first. I just wanted to make sure you didn't just want me to shut up about it."

"No!"

**To be completely honest, I've read both types of formatting, but I'd be more than happy to do it the way that is easiest to read.  
I really appreciate all the reviews and the feedback, and I want to do everything I can to make sure that the story is easy to read. Thank you again.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

"Hey," he grins when he opens the door. "You look great,"  
"Thanks, you too."  
He looks down, obviously embarrassed, and starts to rub at a spot of dough on his arm. "Somehow, I keep the kitchen clean."  
"I wasn't teasing."  
He gives me a shy smile, and changes the subject quickly. "My roommates were supposed to go out tonight, but they came home early, saying that she just needed to change her shoes. They haven't left yet, though, and I'm pretty sure that they're waiting to ambush you."  
"I'm not afraid."  
"You shouldn't be. One's pregnant, I'm sure you could take her."  
I laugh. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."  
"Anytime,"  
He invites me in, and a bronze haired man on the couch waves. "I told you she wouldn't mind."  
"I didn't say she would." Peeta defends.  
"Well I know you don't mind,"  
"Katniss, this is one of my roommates, Finnick Odair. Finnick, this is Katniss Everdeen."  
"We already spoke, but it's nice to meet you."  
"Nice to meet you, too," I say.  
Then, as if nothing happened, Finnick continues the conversation. "Annie!" he calls. "Didn't I tell him?"  
"I don't want to get involved!" she calls back from the other room.  
"Come on, I told him, right?"  
"I remember you saying something about how if she doesn't like us than he shouldn't like her."  
"Thank you."  
"I have to put the rest of the pizza together, Katniss, would you like to come with me?"  
we walk in silence, and then he ducks around the corner.  
"They were supposed to be out of here. I'm sorry, really."  
"I can hear you!" Finnick calls.  
"It's okay," I tell Peeta. "I don't mind."  
"I just wanted to talk to her!" Finnick says. "I mean, I let you talk to Annie all the time when we were dating."  
Peeta doesn't even acknowledge him. "Seriously, we can go."  
"I just wanted to talk to her! I don't know what difference it makes."  
"I don't mind," I say.  
"Really?"  
"No, of course not. They're your friends. I can talk to them."  
"You don't have to do this."  
"I know,"

So I stand in the living room, answering every question that Finnick, and once she comes out of the other room wearing pajamas, Annie, have for me. They're mostly weird little trivial questions, about my family and more relevant ones, about what I think of Peeta, but I answer them all as honestly as I can. I don't miss the fact that Peeta stands in the doorway, watching.  
"So," Finnick says. "What do you think of his bionic leg?"  
"Bionic leg?" I ask.  
Peeta comes in quickly, giving Finnick a wide-eyed look.  
"Let's just go get something to eat," he suggests.  
"Okay?"  
"If they wanted the apartment tonight, they could have just said so." He adds, more to them than to me.  
"Come on, Peeta!" Annie complains while he holds the door open for me. "Don't do this. We were just joking!"  
"I'll be back later. We'll talk about it then."  
He apologizes as soon as the door is closed.  
"I'm so sorry. I thought they would leave."  
"It's okay, really," I say, and then, since I can't stop myself, I add, "what was he saying about you having a bionic leg?"  
He reaches down and inches the bottom of his jeans up, revealing a prosthetic leg. "I probably should have said something earlier. It was a drunk driver. Finnick was in the car with me. He grabbed the steering wheel and got us far enough away that other than the car, this was the only real damage. I would have died if I was driving alone."  
"I'm glad you weren't."  
"Me too," he drops his pant leg so it covers the prosthetic again. "That's at least part of why I can't stay mad at him, even when he does stuff like this, I guess. I'm sorry about that, though, really."  
"It's okay," I say while he presses the elevator button. "I would have stayed there. I wasn't there for long, anyway."  
"You shouldn't have had to stay."  
I wonder why he's so upset about our night getting interrupted, but I feel bad enough about making him tell me the story about his leg that I'm willing to let it go.  
It's quiet until we're almost to his car. "I just don't want to screw this up."  
"You won't." I say.  
"I hope not."  
"I won't let you." I say.  
"So what sounds good?" he asks.  
"I don't know," I say. "I could really go for some homemade pizza."  
He grins, and I'm relieved that my joke went over well. "Well, I know a great little place, the locals might be a little hard to handle."  
"I'm still not afraid."

**Author's Note:  
****I'm still amazed by the continued support for this story. Thank you so much! It appears that the general consensus is to keep writing it the way I am, but if there are any last minute voters, I would love to hear your thoughts! Thanks! (You can also follow burnt-bread-and-dandelions on Tumblr, where I'll occasionally post little outtakes from this story, if you'd like!) **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:  
"My sister told me to invite you to dinner at my mom's house," I tell him, readjusting the phone. "You don't have to."  
"I'd love to!" I can hear the smile in his voice. "Tonight?"  
"That's an option, yes." I say. "They're having baked spaghetti."  
"You know how I feel about pasta,"  
"You don't have to go,"  
"I want to."  
"Really?"  
"Of course."  
"I'll pick you up. It'll be fun," I say. "I have to warn you, though, the board games are a trick, they're all icebreakers. That's the only kind they ever buy. I watched them put my sister's boyfriend through it a few months ago."  
"It can't be worse than what Finnick and Annie put you through."  
I laugh. "It wasn't that bad."  
"If you say so."  
He waits for me on a bench in front of his apartment, grinning when I pull up in front of him. I roll the window down.  
"Are you afraid of what would happen if they got another chance to talk to me?"  
"Only a little." He says, buckling his seatbelt.  
I grin.  
"Have you been talking to Prim about me since we started dating?"  
"Only a little." I joke.  
He laughs.  
"Just so you know, they're probably going to refer to you as my boyfriend,"  
"I don't mind."  
"Then I'm probably going to refer to you as my boyfriend."  
"I don't mind at all."  
I smile.

Prim is the one to answer the door.  
"Hey! Dinner's almost ready, but Mom and I were talking about how much fun it would be to play a game."  
He gives my hand a squeeze and I try not to laugh. "Or we could just watch something on tv."  
"I think a game sounds like fun," he says. Prim grins. He said the right thing.  
"Peeta, this is my little sister, Prim." I say, realizing that Prim isn't about to introduce herself. "Prim, this is my boyfriend, Peeta."  
"It's nice to meet you,"  
"You too! Although, Katniss has told me so much about you that it feels like I already know you."  
"Only a little?" he asks me, grinning.  
At my mother's suggestion, Prim invites us inside. The board is already set up on the table. We would have been forced to at least sit while they played if I had refused. I think about poor Rory, Prim's boyfriend, about how he politely tried to refuse the offer, about how my mother told him that the games were a tradition. About how Prim made puppy-dog eyes at him until he finally agreed.  
I'm glad that Peeta didn't take any convincing.  
It takes less than a round and a half for my mother to start asking him questions.  
"What do you do for a living?"  
"I'm a chef."  
"What would you like to do for a living?"  
"I'd like to open my own restaurant."  
"Your father has one, right?"  
"He has a bakery."  
"Have you thought about just adding onto that? Surely your father's bakery will be left without anyone to manage it if it doesn't stay in the family."  
He doesn't say anything.  
"As far as the business aspect goes, you could probably do worse than to take over that old bakery. It already has loyal customers, right?"  
I shoot her a look.  
"I'd prefer to make a name for myself." Peeta says softly.  
"And why is that?"  
"It's complicated." Peeta answers, rubbing a circles on my hand with his thumb.  
"How hard would it be, though? To manage it? What's going to happen to that place, now?"  
Prim comes to his rescue before I have the chance to. "Mom, I think that dinner's ready. We should go check on it, okay?"  
"Alright, you can check it."  
"Why don't you come with me so we can bring the drinks in, too? They can put the game away."  
He lets go of my hand and starts to gather the pieces.  
"I'm sorry about that." I say. "It's not too late to fake the flu."  
He gives me a small smile.  
Whatever Prim said to her in the kitchen must have worked, because she's quiet when she comes out of the kitchen.  
"So," Prim says, obviously uncomfortable. "I'll walk you guys out."  
She took the 'never mentioning the food' route. Clever girl. I have to thank her for it later.  
She leads us to the door, hugging us both and saying sorry as many times as she possibly can. Then, covering the side of her mouth that Peeta could see, she whispers.  
"You're right, he is handsome,"  
Peeta meets my eyes and smiles. I really should have taught Prim to whisper quietly.

**A/N:  
Thank you all so much for the reviews! I've never had such a positive response on anything I've posted online! Sugarcubes to you all!  
The next chapter will pick up immediately after this one, and it will hopefully explain what Ms. Everdeen has going on to make her act that way. Send in your theories and I'll post my favorite with the next chapter?  
As always, you can follow burnt-bread-and-dandelions on Tumblr for more about the story and my other writing projects. You should also go like "No, she crept up on me." On Facebook, because I am running a Christmas gift fic program until Christmas Eve, where I'm taking requests.  
Thank you all again so much for your reviews, they keep me going!**


	5. Chapter 5

**TW:  
This chapter touches on Peeta's childhood and his mother, which I tried to keep pretty canon. It's fairly vague, but it does allude to abuse towards the end. Nothing more than what was implied in the books, I don't think, but it's better to be safe than sorry.  
**  
Chapter Five:  
"I am so sorry." I say again, turning onto the highway. "I had no idea she would do that."  
"They were engaged." He says. "My father and your mother, I mean."  
"What?"  
"I probably should have said something earlier."  
"Probably." I agree.  
"Okay, so the story I'm about to tell you is completely biased and several factors are probably missing. I only know it from when my dad didn't think that my mother could hear."  
"Alright." I say. "You're hungry, right?"  
"Absolutely."  
"McDonalds?"  
"Sounds fantastic."  
"Okay, back to the story."  
"Right, so apparently they were a couple all through high school, promise rings and everything, and a few days after graduation, he asked her to marry him, and she said yes. They were going to move in above his family's bakery, and he would take it over. The wedding was planned and she asked to talk to him, and they met up and she just gave the ring back. She said that she couldn't do it because it wasn't right."  
"Wow." I say. I try to think of anything my mother said about a baker, but I come up short.  
"So my father took the shop over anyway, because he's a Mellark son and I'm the first one to not take it over, and your mother supposedly took a year or so to marry someone, and by the time she had the wedding, my father was engaged to my mother."  
"She never said anything about it."  
"Maybe she feels guilty."  
"I'm still sorry."

"It's not your fault, and besides, I've heard much worse about why I should take the bakery over."  
"I think you made the right choice." I say. "You shouldn't have to be unhappy your whole life just because it was someone's dream once."  
"I don't even care about being unhappy doing it, though."  
"What do you mean?"  
"I couldn't be around them for the rest of my life. I could barely live with her until I was eighteen. It was a selfish thing to do, but…"  
"I don't think it was selfish."  
"You're the first."  
"It wasn't selfish." I insist.  
"She was terrible." his voice is softer now, like he's afraid of being overheard, or maybe he's not sure he wants to tell me. "My father never did anything to stop it. She was… she would… my brothers and I would…"  
I've never seen him trip over his words like this.  
"I just didn't want to spend any more time around her. For my own safety. That last year before I turned eighteen, I was pretty much living at Finnick's house. Not that she noticed. She didn't talk to me except for to try to guilt trip me into taking over the bakery and scream at me when I told her I wouldn't."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Nothing you could have done about it." He says. "And as far as the whole thing with your mother goes, your sister handled it well. I can see why you like her so much, I can't help but to, and she barely got two words in." His voice is back to normal, and he's even smiling. I don't know how he did it, but I run with it.  
"She's my hero. I need to do something big for her." Like let her move into my apartment so she doesn't have to worry about doing that for her boyfriend.  
"I certainly want to thank her next time. Just the three of us,"  
"Next time?" I had just about resigned myself to the fact that I would be lucky if I could convince him to think about giving me another chance after tonight.  
"If it's okay with you,"  
"Of course." I say, pulling into the parking lot. "I was just worried that after tonight…"  
"Oh, no. I'm serious, it's not your fault. Your mom didn't even know, she was just trying to help my dad out. I'm fine, really."  
"You're incredible." I say.  
"That's always nice to hear."  
"I'm serious."  
"You're pretty incredible, yourself, you know."  
I could do better, as far as places to do this, than in a McDonald's parking lot, but somehow, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't even seem like it really matters, so before I can talk myself out of it, I unbuckle, lean over, and kiss him.

**Author's Note:  
I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this, but this story hit fifty followers, so I decided to go a little bit crazy.  
Thank you all so much for your support of this story, I love you all! **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:  
I lean into him and he wraps his arm around my shoulder. "What movie did you pick?"  
"I found a collector's edition of Grease in there."  
"You like Grease?" I ask, smiling.  
"I've never seen it. I just thought it would be funny."  
"Why?"  
"Come on, it looks totally corny."  
I lean away from him, mostly joking.  
"Is it yours?" he asks, laughing.  
I don't answer.  
"Katniss, do you have a collector's edition of Grease?"  
"Maybe,"  
He has to cover his mouth to try to keep from laughing.  
"There's nothing wrong with Grease." I defend.  
"Probably not," he agrees. "I just never would have expected you to be the musical type."  
"_Everyone_ is the musical type."  
"I wouldn't have chosen it if I weren't willing to give it a shot. Come here, I'm getting cold."  
I laugh, resting my head on his shoulder again. "Grease is my favorite."  
"That would explain the collector's edition."  
"It was a gift from Prim. I actually own three copies."  
"Three?"  
"I have my first one, which is just the movie, and I have a two disk version, and I have the special edition, with the jacket."  
"I can't believe you have three copies of Grease."  
"I can't believe that you've never seen it." I counter.  
"Valid point."  
"I know."  
"I just never would have guessed that you liked musicals."  
"Now you know my deepest, darkest secret." I say, turning the volume up. "You have to pay attention to the opening credits. They're the best part."  
To his credit, he doesn't laugh at me when I hum along to the songs. He doesn't even make any kind of comment about anything other than the plot of the movie.  
Once the movie is over, though, he pulls me a little bit closer to him. "I own a snuggie."  
"What?"  
"It's my deep dark secret. I own a snuggie."  
"Name brand?"  
"You go big or go home when it comes to snuggies."  
"What color is it?"  
"Blue."  
"Is it comfortable?"  
"Insanely."  
I can't help but to laugh at this, and he grins. "Let's be honest here, the snuggie is way more embarrassing."  
"Yeah, right." I laugh. "Come on, something like this could totally ruin someone's street cred."  
"And a snuggie wouldn't? Not even Finnick knows about mine."  
I grin. "Well, if that doesn't make a girl feel special…"  
He kisses my cheek.  
"Oh, you reminded me, we need to hide this before Delly comes home."  
"She doesn't know about your musicals?"  
"Nope."  
"Well, if that doesn't make a boy feel special…"

**A/N:  
This is an incredibly short chapter, but A) I wanted to show Katniss and Peeta without other people around, and B) I'm still reeling from the fact that there are fifty people subscribed to this story.  
Once again, thank you for all of the kind reviews, I love to read them, and I try to respond to them all.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:  
"Finnick wants to throw me a birthday party," Peeta tells me, stirring the macaroni noodles.  
"Oh, that sounds like fun."  
He lets go of the spoon, turning to look at me. "I don't think you heard me right. Finnick wants to throw me a birthday party."  
"Is that bad?"  
"Yes." He smiles. "But only because I keep on telling him that I don't want anything big. I think he's using my birthday as a last hurrah since he and Annie are going to have to settle down soon with their baby."  
"So what are you going to do?"  
"I'm not sure. I have two plans, and they both involve you."  
"Oh?"  
"Either you could come, and we'd hang out there, or you could sneak me out a few minutes into the party, it depends on which party he's throwing."  
"There's more than one?"  
"Yeah," he grabs the margarine from the refrigerator. "I mean, Annie's pregnant, and they're getting their adult friends, so either it's going to be a grown-up party with people that I barely know, or it's going to be a college part with people that I barely know. The grown-up one would be okay, but either way, like I was trying to tell him, I'd rather spend my birthday with you."  
I smile. "I'll spend it with you. It doesn't even matter which party he throws."  
"You're fantastic." He tells me, kissing my cheek.  
"Talking about me again?" Delly asks, watching us from the doorway. "Okay, look, I've been trying to mind my own business, but can I just tell you how right I was?"  
"I agree," Peeta says, taking the pot off the heat. "I think we're cute together. So thanks. For… you know, setting us up."  
She beams. "What are you guys doing tonight?"  
"She didn't believe me that there's a specific way to make macaroni and cheese, so I'm proving her wrong."  
"Measuring cup?" she asks.  
He nods, smiling.  
"Family recipe," Delly explains. "I think you'll like it,"  
"I know she'll like it," Peeta says, sticking the measuring cup in the microwave. "I mean honestly, if she doesn't, then she probably just has something against macaroni, and you can't blame that on the recipe."  
"Well, as much as I'd love to stay for a bowl, I'm going out tonight, so I'd better get going."  
"We'll have to hang out sometime, just the three of us." I offer.  
"Maybe I'll bring my guy over."  
"Maybe." I say.  
"You have a guy?" Peeta jokes.  
She sticks her tongue out and tosses something at him; I think it's her keys, whatever it is, it crashes against his leg with a clang, and she freezes, her eyes widening. "I'm so sorry."  
"What?" he scoops them up and tosses them back. "It's not like it hurt."  
"I know, I just…"  
"I'd be more upset if you hit the good one," he jokes.  
"I just…"  
"Listen, it's okay, Delly. Don't worry about it."  
She nods. It's quiet until she leaves.  
"It's weird for her," he says, gesturing towards his leg. "I mean, it's weird for me, but more for her, I think. She's really the only family I have, and she doesn't want to be, but I think she gets weirded out about it."  
"I can see why."  
"Does it weird you out?"  
"No."  
"She was really freaked out when she came to the hospital and I showed it to her. I was just glad to have family there, you know? Out of my whole family, Delly was the only one that came to visit. Finnick and Annie were there all through visiting hours, and I really have no reason to complain, since they're as good as family, but it was kind of hard."  
"Yeah, I understand." I say, trying to figure out how you have a brother or a kid and not go visit them when they lose a freaking leg.  
"So I try not to mention it too much around her. It doesn't come up in conversation much or anything."  
"When did it happen?"  
"About a year and a half ago."  
"So your family…"  
"Everything went down with them about six months before."  
"Must've been hard,"  
"I don't know," he finishes mixing everything together and grabs the bowls. "I mean, honestly it was kind of like a clean slate. Not the leg thing, but I mean…"  
"Yeah,"  
"I guess it just really drove it home when none of them showed up. It was kind of a relief," he smiles. "I was kind of afraid that they would take me being in a hospital bed as an excuse to try to make one last attempt to get me to take over the bakery while I couldn't leave."  
He offers me a bowl and I take it. "I think you're amazing."  
"Why?"  
"You're so… positive. I don't know how you do it."  
"I have a reason to be." He grins at me. "Did you know that Finnick told me that I'm the easiest to be around that I've ever been?"  
I laugh.  
"I'm serious, and he even said that he thinks that it's you. I told him that he's right."  
"It's mutual." I say, handing him a fork. "My boss pulled me aside a few days ago to tell me that my mood has improved and that if I keep it up, there's a raise in my future."  
"Really?"  
"Yep,"  
"I mean, this isn't a business partnership or anything, but if it were, we'd be raking it in." he laughs, kissing my cheek.

**Author's Note:  
Again, you guys are just blowing me away with all of your kind reviews. Thank you all so much. Have any requests for characters you'd like to see translated into this au? Leave them in the reviews! I have a few planned, but I'd love to hear what you all think. (: **


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:  
From the looks of things, Finnick threw the party with their adult friends. About four women are surrounding Annie from where she sits on the couch, they're all looking for a spot on her stomach that they can get their hands on. Finnick stands a foot or two away, sneaking glances over at Annie every few seconds, talking with a group of men that's about as big as the group of women.  
It doesn't take long for me to find Peeta. He's sitting down in the kitchen, there's nobody anywhere near him. I feel bad that I'm late.  
"Peeta," I say.  
He smiles when he sees me. "Hey!"  
"Hey," I say, handing him the gift box. "Happy birthday!"  
"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything."  
"I totally did." I sit down next to the chair he was sitting in, and he sits back down.  
He grins when he opens the present. I bought him paints and paintbrushes, sketching pencils, and what I guess are fancy erasers. It took me a while to find the brand that he told me was his favorite, but seeing those dimples makes every bit of work it took worth it.  
"I can't believe you remembered!" he says. "Thank you!"  
"You're welcome." I don't add how nervous I had been that he wouldn't like them, or that he already had them.  
Once he's finished telling me how incredible they are and what a good job I did picking them out, he kisses me. I don't even think about the fact that there was ever a possibility that he wouldn't like them.  
"Some party, huh?" he asks.  
"It kind of feels like a baby shower,"  
He glances out through the doorway and laughs. "It does!"  
"I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here."  
"Nah, they're parents, they're early."  
"Do you want to get out of here?"  
"More than anything."  
"Do you think that Finnick will try to stop us?"  
"I don't think that he'll notice that we're missing until the party is over."  
"If he doesn't let us out, we'll use the fire escape." I offer.  
He grins.  
I'm surprised by the fact that Finnick doesn't even protest, especially after the fight he put up in order to throw the party in the first place. Maybe he knows he made a mistake, but either way, it's a relief.

"Did you even know any of them?" I ask on the way to his car.  
"Nope, not at all."  
"Did you at least have a cake?"  
"I haven't had a cake for my birthday since I was six."  
"But your father owned a bakery!"  
"He did," he agrees.  
"What did you have?" I ask. "Like, pie or something?"  
"We didn't do much for birthdays, which may be why Finnick always tries to throw me a party."  
"Where do you want to go?"  
"I'm getting you a cake."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:  
"You don't have to do this, Katniss," he tells me as I unpack the cake mix.  
"I know." I kiss his cheek. "I want to."  
"You're sweet."  
I honestly don't know how to respond to this. Nobody has ever called me sweet, especially after they met Prim. I just smile.  
"Let's get started, okay?"  
"You're the boss," he grins.  
"Not if you want this to taste good," I say.  
He laughs.  
"Where's your vegetable oil?"  
"It's above the stove. I'll get the eggs. Oh, that cabinet sticks; let me get it for you."  
"Well, you're the baker, after all." I tease as he gathers the supplies. "I mean, obviously, you've been well trained for cabinets that stick."  
He grins at me. "Maybe if we're lucky, we'll break into song and dance while this bakes. You could probably come up with some kind of ballad about how deeply you care for me by the time we get this in the oven, right?"  
"Not if you keep making jokes about Grease."  
He laughs. "I'm sorry. Would you like to crack the eggs?"  
"Sure. I don't think that the ballad will happen, though. I can't find a word that rhymes with snuggie."  
"It's possible that we should declare a truce,"  
"Alright." I say. "But just because it's your birthday."

"I still don't understand how it's been so long since you had a birthday cake." I tell him, scooping more frosting out of the container. I know that the cake would have been much, much prettier if I would have taken him up on his offer, but I'm a firm believer that you should never have to frost your own cake.  
"I don't think that it's as big a deal as you do."  
"Why not?"  
"It just isn't! I think that this is really sweet, but I'm not emotionally damaged from not eating cake on my birthday."  
"I don't think you're emotionally damaged."  
"I haven't thought about the birthday cake thing in years." He admits. "You're the only person I've ever told."  
"Really?" I ask.  
He nods.  
"Why?"  
"I hate it when people pity me,"  
"I don't pity you." I say. "I just wanted you to have a cake."  
"I know you don't." he gives me a small smile. "I wouldn't like you half as much if you pitied me,"  
I smile.  
"That all being said," he makes a vague hand gesture. "I want you to know that this is the kindest thing that anyone has ever done for me,"  
"I wish I would have known earlier, I would have bought it. It could look halfway decent that way."  
"I think that it's perfect."  
"It's not." I say. "But I'm glad you like it."  
"I love it."  
I say it as soon as the thought pops into my head, not even thinking. "I love you."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:  
I can't quite meet his eyes. I try to dig myself out. "That was really forward, wasn't it? I… Uh… If you don't, um… If you don't feel the same way, you don't have to… um, just… I… Is it hot in here? I'm just… sorry, yeah, like I was saying. I just don't want you to feel like you have to say something that you don't really-"  
He interrupts me with a quick kiss before I can figure out how to take it back.  
"I love you, too." he smiles. "We can open a window, if you'd like. And it's not exactly forward if we've been waiting for this for years."  
I laugh and kiss his cheek.

We wait until the 'party' clears out to eat the cake so Finnick and Annie can join us. He's full of compliments. Telling me how great the frosting is –he's not used to frosting from a can, so it's especially exciting for him –and about how he thinks that I'm completely fantastic for making it for him. He doesn't even listen when I try to remind him that he did most of the work.  
"So, did you have a good birthday, Peeta?" Annie asks.  
"Oh, the best," he wraps an arm around my shoulder, "without a doubt."  
I smile.  
"I think we need to keep her," Annie says, and then to me, she adds, "he hates birthdays. I've never actually heard him confess to enjoying one."  
"I don't hate birthdays." He protests. "I just don't understand why I should get gifts just for being alive."  
"You totally hate birthdays," Finnick laughs. "I haven't seen you enjoy a birthday since you were ten."  
"Okay, fine," he says. "I don't hate birthdays _anymore_."  
"I don't care what happens, but I'm with Annie. We're keeping her."  
"I'll keep her around until she gets sick of me." Peeta promises.  
"I'm not planning on getting sick of you." I say, resting my head on his shoulder.  
"That's good to hear," Annie says. "I actually don't think that I've ever liked him as much as I have since you guys started dating. I liked you before I even met you just based on how he acted when he came home from that first date."  
"See that, Katniss? One of my best friends liked you before they even liked me,"  
"I think that's the first time I've actually made someone like me." I joke.  
"You made _me_ like you," he says softly.  
My cheeks feel like they've been set on fire. "I love you." I say. "I love you, and I can't thank Delly enough."

**The** **End**

**Author's Note:  
Again, I want to say thank you for all of the continued support on this story. You all have blown my mind. I may do a sequel to this story, but for now, this is where I want to leave it. My plan was originally to end it at the party.  
I have a few more AUs planned, as well as some little oneshots that would fit in with canon. I love this universe, and I'm nowhere near done playing with these characters. So again, thank you for your support and for all of your lovely reviews.  
Until next time,  
Carolyn. **


End file.
